Steamy Comics Novels & Stories

"This feels… incredible… you really know how to handle women…" I'm a figure photographer. Through my lens, I had handled countless women in their most seductive and lascivious moments. The women in my lens, no matter who they were before, always became top-tier models, because I trained each and every one of them. In a dimly lit room, a woman knelt on the bed, completely exposed. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hazy. The only thing still held high was the curve of her hips, lifted firmly in my grasp…

"Kiara Hart, did you secretly hide some fresh milk? Hand it over now!" My boyfriend's younger brother, Matthew Chambers, pinned me against the wall and ran his hands over me, searching everywhere. He had no idea that the sweet scent was not milk, but...

"Max, I'm so itchy down there. Could you use your stick to scratch it for me?" Beneath the desk, my boss's daughter was perched on my lap, her round little bottom in the air. I was in the middle of a project meeting with my team, a whole group of them standing in front of my desk. She was driving me crazy. My hardness was itching and swelling by the second. I was about to lose it.

"Suzanna, tell me the truth. Am I built better than Luis?" I had gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and accidentally caught a glimpse of my husband's coworker, Hank, with his girlfriend. They were tangled up together, without a care in the world about who might see them. I should have walked away. However, my legs did not seem to work anymore. Hank saw me. The next day, he blocked my path outside the bathroom. "Suzanna," he said, his voice low and amused, "you didn't believe me. Maybe I should prove it." Before I could react, he was already pulling down his pants.

"Stop it, Dad! I'm your daughter-in-law!" Ever since my husband fails to get his willy up due to an accident, I keep bawling my eyes in the middle of the night. My father-in-law, Anthony Clarke, climbs into my bed at midnight out of sympathy toward me. "Natalie, you'll only hurt yourself if you keep using those toys. Here, let me help you." After that, he lifts my legs roughly.

At midnight, I accidentally stumble upon the boss' daughter, Julianne Carter, pleasuring herself in the dimly-lit adult store. Her eyes are blindfolded, and her legs are spread on a special chair, where they are propped up on the arms. At the moment, she's cruising through the waves of pleasure uncontrollably. But when the chair malfunctions, Julianne is unable to free herself from the restraints no matter how hard she tries. That's when she starts calling for help. "Please… Please help me…" But I crouch down instead, allowing my fingers to glide across her thighs, past her calves, and back to her inner thighs. "Don't move. This chair's mechanisms are very complex. I need to study them thoroughly and slowly." "P-Please… hurry up…" I watch as Julianne's expression shifts from embarrassment to yearning. She finally stops struggling against the restraints when she breaks down from all the overwhelming sensations. "Give it to me… Please give everything to me…" Just as I'm about to yield, I hear the sounds of the boss, George Carter, opening the door coming from the outside. So, I quickly wheel Julianne into a nearby storeroom. That's where I see hyper-realistic molds that look exactly like Julianne.

Buzzz… "Ah… Slower… I can't take it anymore…" Something hidden inside me buzzed insistently, and I squeezed my legs together, face burning as I sat in the corner of a dark movie theater. Beside me, my blind date set the remote down, reached over, and pressed my head downward while unzipping his pants…

In the bedroom, I am being manipulated into various positions. A strange man reaches out toward me and fondles my body roughly with his callused hands. He leans in closer and tells me to relax because it will help release the milk quickly. The man before me is my husband's best friend. He was hired to be my lactation therapist. His hands roam across my waist slowly and pause right at my chest. I can hear him saying in a hoarse voice, "I'm going to start massaging here." I can't help but shudder before closing my eyes tightly.

"Sir, do I need to take off my pants just to go through the bone-setting therapy?" With flushed cheeks, I lie on the massaging bed. Henry Irwin, a therapist with an eight-pack, is tugging down my yoga pants as we speak. "If you want to have the best effects, you can't wear pants at all." Henry grips the hem of my pants before tugging them downward slightly. I quickly grab his hand. "I don't think that's a good idea!" The truth is, I'm already flooding down there. I'm worried that he might see how wet I am when he takes off my pants.

"I didn't mean to…" All I had done was catch the scent of my classmate's mother's stockings, and that alone was enough for her to drag me into a room and punish me for it. What terrified me even more was this. Somehow, unbelievably, my classmate was about to start calling me Dad.